


we'll get capitalism to fuck us harder!

by koisurufortunecookie



Series: centricide but it's just lesbian porn [1]
Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: BDSM, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/F, Hate Sex, Impact Play, Lesbian Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Safe Sane and Consensual, Spit Kink, Strap-Ons, Verbal Humiliation, also bottom tankie bc i gotta do everything my goddamn self around here, also some fluff at the end shhhhh, if thats down your road then lets go, look its kinky lesbian oppunity sex, not reeeeeally hate i guess, only a lil tho, play responsibly folks, whats a girl gotta do to get railed by a hot mean capitalist woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:40:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26368840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koisurufortunecookie/pseuds/koisurufortunecookie
Summary: Making deals with communists is usually an exercise in frustration, but leave it to Ancap to find a way to ensure she's getting the best 'bang' for her buck even from the last woman she'd expect.
Relationships: Ancap/Commie
Series: centricide but it's just lesbian porn [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916236
Comments: 18
Kudos: 59





	we'll get capitalism to fuck us harder!

**Author's Note:**

> this has literally been finished for four days and i've been staring at the nice edited doc going "i can't post this..... can i? no...... but what if..... i can't ...... unless...." which is weird considering it's not a fraction as disturbing as a certain other centricide fic i have on here involving questionable political unity. sorry to the fbi agent almost certainly monitoring me for extremism. actually you know what i'm not sorry at all. fuck the feds, witness this.
> 
> anyways, hey, you saw the tags. kinky capcom lesbian sex with a title from the song about accelerationism despite containing zero accelerationism! buckle up.

Commie was a handful, that much was certain. Despite her talk about “real strength being in the people” or whatever, her own overwhelming pride in her system gave her that haughty, stoic attitude that mirrored the other authoritarian in the house. Ancap could hardly stand statists even when they shared her economic sense, so dealing with a goddamn communist was a fiasco all of its own. 

However, as Ancap knew very well, that domineering attitude hid a flurry of hangups- not nearly as many as Nazi, but frankly, anyone more repressed than the fascist wasn’t someone the right anarchist would want to meet. Those obvious complexes were something she’d never had the chance to capitalize on, but then Commie had wound up in her debt- turns out sometimes you have to rely on one enemy to escape another, and the US government sniffing around an illegal weapons cache some close followers of her had hidden was a bigger foe than the rightist. So Ancap generously lended a hand, pulled some strings and got some people with big trucks who didn’t ask questions on the scene, and everything was cleared out before the raid. Of course, she’d made it clear from the start that her services wouldn’t come for free, but Commie seemed desperate enough to negotiate the payment later. That was the short version of events that had led them to their current arrangement.

“So cute watching you crawl over like that. Is this the reward all your thieving dictators got after establishing you?”

Comme had to lift her head up to fire a death glare in the other woman’s direction. The authoritarian was on her hands and knees directly in front of where Ancap sat upon her bed, stripped down to her boringly practical white bra and panties (and her ushanka- the capitalist had made her keep that on). Ancap made a mental note to ask for her measurements later- the communist would look particularly fetching in something by La Perla. Or maybe she would be a little mean and force her into some sort of skimpy cosplay. Maid dress, maybe? Playboy bunny? So many options. For now, though, she settled for admiring the view as it was, the other woman’s face as red as her quadrant. “Watch it, kulak.”

Chuckling slightly, Ancap brought one long leg up before slowly bringing it down, the toe of her purple stilettos lining up directly with the communist’s nose. Commie’s red eyes flickered from the shoe to just overtop, and Ancap withheld another snicker as she realized the other woman’s stare now sat firmly between her legs where her yellow pinstripe miniskirt had rode up. “Now, now, is that any way to speak to someone who generously helped you out and treats you so kindly?” 

The leftist’s gaze shot up to Ancap’s face, head cocked. Wavy ruby red hair shifted as it flowed down her back, locks falling over her ample chest. Ancap took a moment to consider both the excitement of eventually getting Commie out of that bra and the light jealousy (the rightist was probably only a cup size behind her, but she’d paid a surgeon some damn good money to get to her current size! Meanwhile, the damn Bolshevik had just won the genetic lottery) before listening to the taller woman speak. “You have a strange definition of ‘kind’.”

Her voice still carried a stern undertone, but without the cold haughtiness that would have been present in any other situation- her earlier prediction about Commie having some control complexes in bed looked to have been spot on. It would be a treat when that submissive mindset finally kicked in. “No, I’m quite on the mark.” Extending her leg, Ancap rotated her ankle to press the pointed heel of the shoe against Commie’s lips before allowing her voice to shift into a purr. “You’re an unsuccessful, backwards little ideology. No matter how big you talk, you always end up just like this- collapsed on your hands and knees. You don’t even deserve to lick the dirt off my shoes, but here I am about to give you the honour of pleasing me.” 

Taking advantage of the visible shiver that runs over Commie’s body at her words, Ancap lowered her foot back to the ground before spreading her legs wide open, allowing her skirt to fully rise up over her hips and bunch up around her waist. Commie’s red eyes follow her movements like a hawk, and the rightist can see the woman’s fingers dig into the carpet as she finally gets a clear view of the lacy black panties Ancap had picked out just for today. The statist stares like maybe all of this is hitting her at once, mumbles something under her breath in Russian, and it allows Ancap the time to tilt her sunglasses down, heterochromic yellow-purple eyes flashing down at the woman below. 

“So do what you’re good at, and submit to authority. _Eat."_

Commie’s face is a wonderful clash of emotions, and the capitalist swears she’s looking at a blend of both their unity partners- a totalitarian desperately clinging to her precious pride all while a leftist battles to throw all of it to the wind in the name of pleasure. But Ancap is rarely wrong when analyzing someone, and she seems to have been right on the mark again- for all her posturing, the authoritarian absolutely got off on being shoved around and having her control wrenched away. By the time Commie is crawling towards her with a nearly doelike expression, Ancap is considering taking back everything she’s ever said about statists. If they all have such deliciously disempowering control complexes, maybe she ought to be looking up instead of left for her future lays. 

Lifting her hips slightly to allow the communist to slide her panties down her legs until they hung off one ankle, Ancap watched as Commie’s hands rested on her thighs before pushing them apart gently. It was interesting, the way the leftist treated each step like a ritual, like something sacred. As much as Ancap knew she deserved to be worshiped, she was a deeply impatient lover, and the rapid heat developing in her core wasn’t going to take care of itself. “Planning on hurrying up anytime soon? Or do I-“

Ancap cut herself off with a somewhat undignified gasp as Commie abruptly buried her face between her thighs, hot breath on her clit followed by an equally hot tongue.  _ Fuck,  _ okay, that was nice. Ancap had to bite her lip to withhold a moan as the communist teased her slit before slipping her tongue past her folds- as heavenly as that felt, the anarchist didn’t want to give Commie the satisfaction of hearing any further noises out of her until she was ready. The statist sure didn’t make it easy, though- apparently Commie had plenty of experience in this department, which makes her wonder if Ancom’s been holding out on her when they swapped stories of their escapades with other ideologies. As one of those calloused fingers slipped past Ancap’s opening while a soft tongue continued toying with her clit, the capitalist found herself moving her legs to rest over the other woman’s shoulders without really thinking about it. 

At this rate, the power would shift hands, and Ancap wanted nothing to do with that. Stil, one equalizing force she had in her arsenal was her words, something that she knew riled Commie up like nothing else (and that didn’t change whether they were in the bedroom or out). One hand absentmindedly started undoing the buttons on her blazer, the other keeping her balanced on the bed as she spoke. “Mm, looks like you’re good for something after all. You know, Commie, I’ve been thinking about something lately. I think you’d like it.”

Commie shifted her head slightly, just enough to let her eyes be seen while still dutifully lapping at the other woman’s clit. Her face nearly matched her irises, flushed a deep red, and wasn’t that a sight to behold? “You always go on about loathing private ownership, about communal division of resources. I put some thought into it, and I think I’d be alright with it in one specific scenario.” Lifting her sunglasses up to rest on her head, Ancap grinned down at the communist. “We’d just make  _ you  _ public property.”

A visible shiver runs through the authoritarian, hot breath over Ancap’s core hitching before picking up. Ah, wasn’t getting instant results great? Finally sliding out of her blazer, Ancap got to working on her tie as she continued to speak. “How about it? Since you’re supposedly so in support of ‘serving the people’, I’m sure you wouldn’t argue against being tied up and bent over in public. Knowing you, you’d probably get off on being seen by everyone.”

The communist moaned, somewhat muffled by the way Ancap instinctively ground against her face at the sound of the noise. Keeping her voice as level as she could given the way Commie obediently ate her out, the anarchist continued, dropping her tie and shirt and revealing the carefully selected lace bra (that probably cost about ten times as much as Commie’s entire ordinary outfit, now that she thought about it). “Into that idea? I figured you would be. It’s funny, I’d always suspected you were a closet slut, but it’s nice to get confirmation. I’d invite some of my friends over- oh, the other Librights would have fun with you. Would you like them to see you like that? Naked and tied down, completely at the mercy of your worst enemy?”

Commie briefly pulls slightly away, presumably for air after being buried between Ancap’s thighs for so long, and the capitalist can already see that haze falling over the other woman’s expression. The leftist seemed like the type of sub who gradually worked her way up into her subspace, and while that was an extremely hot transition to see happening in real time, it also meant Ancap had a responsibility to ensure no boundaries were overstepped in the rush of endorphins. Despite what people liked to claim about her, she wasn’t a monster- easier to get people in bed with you when you don’t build up a reputation of ignoring basic rules of consent. Lowering a hand and lifting Commie’s chin up gently, the right anarchist finally removed her sunglasses permanently, setting them on the bed and removing that barrier between them. “Give me a colour, Commie.”

The other woman seemed to come down to earth for a moment, mind going back to the contract she’d signed with an entire section dedicated to this part, before rolling her eyes and huffing under her breath. “Green, obviously. Kulak, I told you I was prepared to honour my end of things. I can handle much mo- Hngh!”

Her complaint was cut off with a pained noise as Ancap squeezed her jaw as tightly as she could, going from a gentle tilt to a full blown wrench upwards as the capitalist forced Commie to hover uncomfortably with half her body weight supported by the hand holding her chin. “You leftists and your snarky attitudes. How you can accuse me of being insolent and later run your damn mouth like this is beyond me. So congratulations on earning your first punishment of the evening, I suppose.”

Since she was well enough to give lip over being asked for a colour, Commie was well enough to be punished for it. Though her voice may have intentionally carried a salacious, carefree tone, Ancap’s mind was already running through the plentiful correction methods she could utilise in this specific case- keeping authoritarians perfectly in line was a surprisingly exhilarating challenge, though perhaps it shouldn’t have been so unexpected this time around given Commie’s penchant for revolution. Speaking of, the woman stiffened underneath her, red eyes stuck firmly on her temporary mistress as that hazy cloud began to form again. “I-“

“Don’t speak.” Ancap tightened her grip, and Commie cringed, nodding as well as she could. “Sit and wait patiently. I’ll tell you when you get to use your words again.”

When it looked like Comme was going to keep her mouth shut, Ancap released her, the other woman slumping down and rubbing the spots around her jaw where thin fingers once grabbed. Uneasily, she settled into a kneeling position, the hand that wasn’t massaging her jaw held anxiously in her lap. Good. Ancap took the opportunity to readjust her panties (with the internal consolation that they’d soon be right back off) before standing up, allowing herself to be ogled from down below. Commie could stare all she wanted- Ancap wouldn’t have picked out lingerie and heels if she wasn’t eager to be looked at. She embraced the less-than-subtle gaze as she waltzed by the kneeling woman, making a move for her bedside table. What was in this drawer again? Ancap really needed to get a better organization system in place for her toys. Some other time. For now, she was pawing through a couple options, weighing the benefits of each. Hm… That one was no doubt a favourite, but plastic wasn’t always the best for beginners, and with how thin it was, she’d essentially be pushing Commie in the deep end before she was comfortable treading water. Best to leave that one for now. How about…

Oh, how adorable. That’s the one. 

Ancap emerges with the crop in hand, running the smooth, heart-shaped leather end over one palm. That wouldn’t be too harsh or large for someone starting off, and she can imagine how cute the heart-shaped marks would be scattered all over her thighs. After a second thought, she moved to grab a free-floating pair of handcuffs (faux-fur lined, because she’s such a kind person) and pick out the other toy she’d been considering- there was still one use for the long, thin cane. 

Turning back, it looks like Commie had stayed still- smart girl. She learned quickly, if nothing else. Returning with a pep in her step, Ancap stood behind Commie, leaning over and holding the slim cane out in front of her face. “Hold this for me, would you?”

Even from this angle, Ancap could see the other woman roll her eyes at her purposefully-cloying tone. Which was the intent, of course, but also means she’ll add an extra strike or two as punishment. Commie lifts her left hand up to take it, only for Ancap to tug it back up. Tilting her head back in confusion, she met Ancap’s gaze, the rightist smiling down sweetly.

“Not with your hands.”

It takes a moment for realization to cross Commie’s face, and the red rapidly spreading across her cheeks is the nicest response Ancap could have gotten. Leaning forwards, she hesitates before her lips part, allowing the rightist to place it in her mouth almost like a bit. Patting the top of her head through the hat, Ancap smiled to nobody, Commie not able to see her. “Good girl. Hands behind your back.”

Commie does exactly that and proceeds to stay still, which is just as well, as Ancap temporarily drops her other two toys aside and kneels down behind her, running a finger down her spine and relishing in the visible shiver that followed. Delicate hands moved to unclasp her bra, letting the garment fall to the floor before reaching forwards to cup the other woman’s chest, giving an ample squeeze. This close, Ancap can see Commie’s throat as she swallows nervously, and the right anarchist can’t help but giggle under her breath, placing a kiss on the side of her neck. “I know we fight a lot, but I do mean it when I say you’re a beautiful girl. Such a nice body and a gorgeous face to boot.”

Lowering one arm and moving to her side, Ancap manages to find the handcuffs she’s groping around for. With a smooth movement that betrays her experience in this sort of thing, she gets them around Commie’s wrists with only a quick glance down. The satisfying  _ click _ is enough to make the leftist stiffen, and the capitalist capitalizes (hah) on her surprise, taking the opportunity to grab her by the back of the neck and roughly force her forward, down until her back is curved and her chin is touching the carpet, Commie barely managing to hold the cane in her mouth. Leaning forward to match her, Ancap offers another pat on the head before whispering. “Which is part of why I’m so excited to ruin you. I want to see that dignified face look more suited to the cheap whore I know you have the potential to be.”

Commie shivers again, and Ancap rises back, resting comfortably on her own knees as she picks up her crop. She’s done this enough times that she can practically see the invisible lines separating the ‘hit-here’ areas from the ‘nope-bad-idea-absolutely-not’ zones. Nothing spoils a scene more than having to pause because someone got flogged where they shouldn’t have and now a kidney is ruptured. Luckily, there’s no risk of that as she gently runs the cool leather over the curve of the other woman’s ass, smirking to herself at the distinct sight of panties slick with moisture. Movement catches her eye, and Ancap notices that her legs have a sudden quiver to them- and god, that was a fucking ego boost. Commie, proud and independant, cool and collected, reduced to shivers at the thought of what was coming next. It’s like a wave of adrenaline, and Ancap has to hold back her own excitement as she speaks. “Unless you’re bowing out, you had better not drop that cane. I can do a whole lot worse than bruise you.”

Without warning, Ancap brought the crop back, cracking it against Commie’s upper thigh.

The leftist muffles a shriek through her closed mouth, body jolting and toes curling against the carpet. Ancap hums cheerfully, admiring the heart-shaped redness arising on pale skin. “I can’t wait to watch you try and sit down these next few days. Better get a longer skirt or always keep that trenchcoat on, unless you’re eager to let the other two know about our little bargain.”

Ancap brings the crop back again, hitting a bit further left than before, almost getting that tender skin on the inside of the thigh, and Commie’s squeal as she writhes on the carpet is just music to her ears. “Ah, but going off our little ‘conversation’ earlier, you  _ are _ the type of bitch who gets off on being seen like this, aren’t you? Perhaps you’d actually like them to know how much of a slut you are.”

A part of her almost wants Commie to drop the cane and bite back with her usual sarcastic barbs, if only to have another reason to punish her, but the other woman is holding on very nicely. Completely red faced and eyes blown wide open, but her diligence in keeping her words in is impressive. Doesn’t mean Ancap doesn’t relish in the muffled yelp as she brings the crop down on her ass, though. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Feeling their gazes on your naked skin, letting whatever dignified image they had of you before be replaced with this bitch in heat getting off on being beaten?”

Even though Commie won’t answer, Ancap still feels as if there’s something to prove here. Running the crop gently between the communist’s legs, she moves to dangle it in front of the redhead’s face, the slick sheen on the leather hard to miss. “Look at this. You’re practically dripping through your panties.” Pulling it back, she didn’t give Commie any time to anticipate the next strike before instantly going in on the other thigh, the harsh  _ snap _ of leather meeting skin making the other woman choke on a gasp, almost seeming like she would drop the cane.

But she doesn’t, and so Ancap continues with a cheerful hum, running the crop up her thigh and landing a hit a bit below the last one. “Nazi would be ruffled, but I know she’d probably work herself up all alone to the thought of you like this. Ancom, though… They’re a whole other story. Given all your patronizing crap, I wonder what they’d do to you after learning about this secret side. Maybe I should tell them, let them ‘try you out’.”

Whatever vague noise Commie was trying to make was replaced by a squeal as the crop hit her ass again, Ancap giggling under her breath. “You’d like whatever it turned out to be, I’m sure. If you’re this wet from  _ me _ treating you like the bitch you know you are, I can’t even imagine your reaction if Ancom was the one slapping your face and spitting in your mouth.”

The sound that comes out of Commie’s mouth is one of the goddamn lewdest things Ancap has ever heard, a primal, warbled whimper followed by a desperate sobbing noise. Usually when Ancap talked about loving ‘commie tears’, she didn’t mean quite like this, and yet she thinks she might adore these even better than the original meaning. Fine by the rightist, who was aware she was being slightly hypocritical by humiliating Commie over getting off on this while also nearly dripping through her expensive lingerie. Leaning forwards, Ancap tugged at the cane in Commie’s mouth, the leftist releasing it and looking at the capitalist with a wild, pleading gaze. She’d said ‘bitch in heat’ hyperbolically back then, but maybe she wasn’t all that far off if the authoritarian’s desperate expression was anything to go off. “Very good. You’re doing so well- so let me hear that voice again. Start with a colour.”

“Green!” Commie burst out, hips jolting forwards again as she cranked her head back to try and get a better look at Ancap, tears visibly bubbling in the corners of her eyes. “Oh my god, green, green,  _ Господи боже, _ Ancap, please  _ fucking _ touch me, oh my god-”

All the words she must have been holding in spilled out at once, and Ancap giggled, reaching down to pat her cheek gently. “Let’s see if we can’t do something about that. I’ll help you stand,  and we’ll move you onto the bed. I want you in this position facing the mirror.”

Commie had rolled her eyes at the fact that Ancap had a large mirror set up next to her bed initially (generally covered by a silky curtain when sex wasn’t happening, because who wants to wake up staring at yourself at three AM?), but now was in a rush to stand with Ancap’s help, nearly bringing them both to a tumble but eventually making her way over to the bed with assistance. She startled briefly at the sight of herself in the mirror- whatever caused that was a mystery to Ancap, but her guess would be that wild expression still plastered onto her face, so foreign for a high and mighty authoritarian. Ancap took the chance to peer past Commie’s shoulder, smirking at the other woman through the mirror. “Desperation looks good on you. Seeing who you really are for the first time?”

The leftist opens her mouth to respond, but slams it shut after a minute, chest and rising and falling with each breath. God, she must be ridiculously turned on to not snap back at Ancap over that. Settling the taller woman onto the bed in the proper position, the capitalist made a beeline for her drawer again, actually knowing what to look for this time- despite (or because of) the high cost, Ancap knew to invest in straps that would ensure she got plenty out of it as well. Picking out the necessary pieces and finally stripping herself of those final pesky pieces of clothing, the rightist hummed gently as she adjusted the harness, sliding the wearer’s end of the toy between her lower lips and sighing with satisfaction as it settled into place. This one hit all the right spots when she moved, and she’d gotten damn worked up herself ever since the beginning of this little arrangement, which was most of the reason she hurried back to Commie.

Still, getting into place behind Commie, Ancap knew some of the best things in life were worth waiting for. Sliding down the other woman’s panties, she drew out a gasped moan from Commie as she allowed her hand to trace her cunt. Placing that hand on the authoritarian’s hip and grasping her strap with the other, Ancap idly used her other hand to take the strap in her palm, gently rubbing the head just against the other woman’s entrance and down over her slit. “Hm, I do wonder if you’ve earned this yet. This is quite the prize.”

“Fuck, Kulak, don’t do this now, not fucking now.” Commie made a desperate plea, trying to rock backwards for more friction (something that led to her getting a thumb pressed sharply against a rapidly growing bruise from the crop, and another subsequent yelp).

This needy woman. Chuckling under her breath, Ancap moved to meet Commie’s gaze in the mirror, humming as if this was the most casual activity in the world. “Look at yourself. Begging to be fucked like a cheap whore by the ‘worst person you know’. What I wouldn’t give for everyone else to see this.”

“Come on, please, please touch me,  _ please.”  _ The communist almost sounding on the verge of tears, Ancap noticed that her legs had started with that light trembling again, this time in desperation instead of fear. Still, how fucking hot was that?

Grinning, Ancap squeezed down on that bruise again. “If you want it so bad, degrade yourself. Look yourself in the eyes and say every mortifying thing you would do to earn my attention, just how low you would sink. Do well, and maybe I’ll grant that wish.”

Heaving, Commie brought her gaze back up, crimson eyes reflected back at herself. Ancap had seen the other woman frantic before, but this was something entirely different- whites of her eyes completely surrounding her iris, wide and desperate, the wild look visible in the mirror was only matched by her tone. “Anything. Anything you want. You can let your friends use me, make me d-debase myself in front of them, fuck me in public.” Everything spilled from her mouth, her carefully regulated filter completely gone along with any last scraps of dignity she may have had. “Collar me, treat me like a dog, tell Ancom and let them see- I don’t care! Ancap, please, I need it, I need you to fuck me, I can’t wait any longer-!”

That was even better than she’d hoped- oh, she’d keep all those things in mind for certain. For now, though, she leant forward, humming gently next to Commie’s ear, feeling the taller woman shake desperately. “Good girl. You can have that reward. Just remember that no matter what you want to say for the rest of your life, you were once right here below me. And you  _ loved it.” _

Straightening back up and steadying herself by shoving the side of the leftist’s head into the mattress, Ancap kept her promise, swiftly moving into position and snapping her hips forward.

The noise that came out of Commie’s mouth was one Ancap knew she’d be mentally replaying the next time she watched the leftist try to get stern with the other two (thank god for soundproofed walls). Caught between a moan and the start of outright  _ bawling,  _ that plus the thrust causing the wearer’s end of the toy to grind hard against a particularly sweet spot inside of her meant Ancap was frantically moving to repeat the motion, taking a large chunk of wavy red hair in her hand and pulling with her next roll of the hips. “Yeah? Rave reviews already? I would have gotten my cuffs out and fucked the soul out of you a long goddamn time ago if I knew you were like this when you-  _ fuck, _ that’s good- when you all moved in.”

Commie, for her part, responds first with a gurgling noise. Funny- It didn’t even look like she was wearing makeup beforehand, but unless she magically secretes mascara when the tears start streaming down her face, perhaps the leftist was more ladylike than she let on. That theory is backed up as she lets out a girlish whimper at the next thrust, hands scrabbling for purchase in the bedsheets. “да, да, боже мой, больше, глубже-!”

Despite not understanding a lick of that, Commie could be reading out a phonebook in that guttural, desperate tone, and it would still drive Ancap to slam back in with even more force. Still, she takes the opportunity to lean over the other woman’s back, allowing for both a deeper thrust (and Commie’s subsequent babbled sobs) and for the rightist to reach around and squeeze at one of her breasts, taking one nipple between her manicured nails (trimmed short, because Ancap may be a sadist, but accidentally giving someone an infection down south via a cut is decidedly unsexy) and pinching down forcefully. “Wow! Nothing quite like seeing an ice-hearted bitch fucked into a stupor. English, Commie, or maybe I can just pull out and ride your face. _ You _ don’t have to finish tonight for me to be satisfied.”

That said, Ancap is  _ really _ hoping Commie does get it together, because she doesn’t go back on threats, and this strap is grinding inside her hard enough that the anarchist is biting back undignified moans of her own each time. The communist whines, choking on a false start before whimpering out. “I mean-  _ fuck _ , right there, there- oh my god, deeper, harder-!”

Oh, she can work with that. Grinning mostly to herself, Ancap briefly pulls out, ignoring Commie’s half-delirious half-begging retort to grab the leftist by the hips, pulling to one side until the unspoken demand finally clicks within the authoritarian’s mind. Allowing herself to be rolled onto her back, Commie practically throws her legs around Ancap’s hips as the other woman leans in, and holy  _ shit _ were those muscular thighs not just for show. The rightist only manages to keep the leftist from practically forcing herself back onto the strap by slapping the redhead clean across the face. Taking advantage of the brief shock a well-timed slap provides, Ancap leans down, one hand on Commie’s shoulder as the other grabs her tightly by the chin and squeezes  _ hard _ in a mimicry of much earlier. “Ah, ah, ah. I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here. We’re doing this at whatever speed I please- not a second earlier. Understood?”

A whine making its way up from the bottom of her throat (probably about as much noise as she can make with her jaw held in a vice grip), Commie wraps her arms around Ancap’s shoulders, trying to tug her in closer. There’s that tiny tinge of annoyance that always comes when disobeyed, the little instinct that makes Ancap wonder what sort of authoritarian ideology she was in another world, and she wrenches Commie’s face just a little higher, regarding her coldly for a moment before spitting down on the other woman’s face. “Perhaps you’re confused. Let’s jog your worthless little memory for a moment.  _ Who is in charge here?” _

Commie is wide-eyed for a long moment, spit dripping over her face and dribbling into her forced-open mouth, and for a brief second, Ancap worries she’s crossed some unknown boundary. She’s expecting a call of ‘yellow’, expecting to back off, but Commie only grabs her tighter- not pulling this time, but holding her shoulders as if they’re the last thing keeping her from falling into some invisible abyss, eyes alight with an excitement the rightist has only seen on the communist during battles. “You. You. It’s you. Forgive me for my stupidity. I need you, need you, need you-” 

Well. Looks like somebody found out about having a certain fetish for the first time. The little outline of the hammer and sickle blended with her irises is clear this close to her, and all Ancap can think of to describe the perverse excitement on Commie’s face is that  _ those sickles may as well have curved into hearts. _ Luckily, thoughts of a painfully hentai-addled brain are kept in the safety of her own head, and Ancap grins, releasing the leftist’s jaw and stroking her under the chin. “Good girl. I’ll forgive you this time. Do you want me to fuck you like this? You want to cum with me looking down on you?”

“Please, oh my god.” Commie whimpers, excitement mixing with that returning sense of desperation, seeping from her face into her voice, and Ancap isn’t one to keep her waiting any longer (though it’s partially because, as good as she is at hiding it for the sake of the scene, she’s getting painfully close herself). Settling comfortably between the communist’s legs and lining the strap up properly, Ancap leans over the sprawled out woman, moving to press her lips against Commie’s as she thrusts again, and she’s not sure which one of them the title of loudest opened-mouth moan goes to that time. That friction is back, the interior parts of the harness hitting each spot in her from new angles that make her head spin, and Commie’s desperate grip on her shoulders turn into blunt, bitten nails digging into her back. 

The stimulation plus the sting of scratches plus the warmth of the other woman’s body as torsos and breasts press up softly against each other is a triple whammy Ancap absolutely didn’t expect to feel as good as it did, and as the messy, desperate kiss continues, Commie crying out with each thrust, the capitalist realizes that the leftist was much, much closer than initially expected as strong legs wrap around her hips, the red haired woman tearing up yet again as she bucks her hips in response. Of course, Ancap wasn’t just not going to comment on that, murmuring right next to her flushed, makeup-stained face. “Even if you statists all have some sort of control complex, I don’t think I-  _ ah _ \- would have ever guessed you were this much of a desperate slut. You’re close, aren’t you?” Gasping for air as mouths part briefly, Commie swallows hard, nodding her head furiously. Whether she was even able to speak was debatable, something Ancap found much hotter than it had any reason being. 

Humming, the smaller woman brought one hand down to Commie’s lower torso, fingers dancing from her belly button down and feeling until they felt increasingly familiar territory. When you get around half as much as she does, finding the clit from an angle like this is a cakewalk, and Ancap knows she’s struck metaphorical gold as she rubs soaking flesh between her fingers in turn with the communist crying out desperately, instantly bucking upwards. “Oh my fucking-  _ Просто так _ , oh god, Ancap, close…!”

“Not until I cum,” The anarchist interjects, pressing a kiss against the soft skin between Commie’s ear and neck, skin drenched with sweat and the faint hint of some cheap shampoo from her hair. “You can wait.”

“Ancap,” Commie openly sobs, but luckily for her, Ancap knows she’s dangerously close as is, the leftist’s much earlier work between her legs and the continued hits to all the right spots from the toy’s interior not going to waste  _ (this whole goddamn set is getting a five star review later).  _ “Ancap, please let me cum, I’m going crazy-”

Pressing another kiss to her begging mouth, Ancap locked eyes with the other woman. Commie, the symbol of an era, fucked out and helpless below her, pleading to be permitted release. Fuck, that was almost enough on its own. Ancap feels her pace getting sloppy, recognizes her breath picking up, but it’s Commie’s nails digging back into her back that serve as the trigger for the final few moments. Red eyes near feral, hair matted and thrown about, spit drying on her face like the lowest sort of scum, Commie chokes out one key word in a loud cry.

“Please, please,  _ mommy-!” _

One goddamn accented plea has Ancap slamming into Commie with a moan so loud that she’s almost not certain even the soundproofing can catch it, stars flashing behind her vision, and as Commie lets out a similar shriek very indicative of what’s going on, for a few seconds, there’s absolutely nobody else in the world but the two of them, caught in a wave of euphoria that crashes over both in turn.

* * *

“Back from a faraway land with the refreshments, madam.”

Commie, for about the billionth time that day, blushes, though her glare in Ancap’s direction isn’t a fraction as angry as it usually is. “You hush.”

Even if she was actually as pissed as usual, it wouldn’t have hit the same- she’s wrapped in one of Ancap’s fluffiest bathrobes, white as snow and made with fine faux fur and Turkish cloth. If she didn’t think she’d get a pillow thrown at her head, Ancap would probably say Commie more closely resembled one of her detested _ tsarinas _ than a revolutionary, tucked up in Ancap’s bed and being waited on with a tray of water, snacks and tea. “I’ll hush if you take the tray. Rehydrate yourself.”

“I’ve had worse.” Although it’s probably true, Ancap shoots Commie a raised eyebrow, the threat of a lecture on the importance of aftercare fresh on her tongue, and the communist rolls her eyes before accepting the tray, scooting over to make room for the anarchist. 

Having gotten into a cozy pair of cotton pajamas herself, Ancap settled under the sheets, grabbing her own bottle of water off the bedside table. Taking a sip, heterochromic eyes still flicked to the left to see if Commie was doing as she was told. With one hand holding a fork with some carefully cubed mango on the end and another with a cup of chamomile tea, she was actually working with Ancap for once. How about that? Waiting for Commie to finish a few bites and sips, Ancap eventually leant back, settling into the pillows and reaching for the remote to flick the pricy overhead TV at the end of the bedframe on. “Alright, your movie pick. Something cute might be good. You like Disney?”

“Look at how they treat their minimum wage park employees and how they punish artists for attempting to unionize, and then ask me again if I like Disney.” Sighing, Commie put her mug down and pushed her hair back, red waves running through her fingers. “Kulak, you don’t have to baby me. There’s no need for this strange coddling thing.”

Screwing the cap back on her bottle, Ancap gave Commie a flat look. “Aftercare isn’t ‘coddling’, it’s mandatory. I’d be doing this even if you weren’t crying on my floor after.”

Flushing, Commie moved her hands back down before awkwardly picking at her nails (which brought a few tingles down the rightist’s back where fresh scratches now lay. “You said that’s normal.”

“For some people it is. I’ve cried after submissive sessions before, and the domme spent time with me after and helped put things in perspective.” Minarchist was wonderful in a lot of ways, but you don’t get much better than someone who’s willing to call you a sow while choking you, have a deep talk about your self-worth issues, and then let you play with her pet bunnies all within the same hour. “Doctors don’t let anesthetized patients drive home right after, and I don’t send you alone to your room without a checkup.”

The taller woman shrugged, twirling the teabag with her finger. “There isn’t anything to talk about.”

“You dropped hard, and usually there’s some feelings behind it.” Ancap tilted her head. “You don’t do this much, I remember you saying something like that when I gave you the contract.”

Seemingly out of things to do with her hands, Commie instead settled for looking up, as if the ceiling tiles held answers. “Not really. I don’t have many people to experiment with.”

“Not even Ancom?”

Head tilting forward in a way that didn’t quite hide the sudden blush, Commie pauses before choosing her words cautiously. “... We’ve had sex, but nothing like… This.”

“They’re not shy about how they’re into kinky shit.” Ah, fond memories of the two of them getting into countless messy, bruise-y situations over the years. “Just not interested in doing that with them, or is it something else?”

Abruptly, Commie inhales sharply, holding her hands tight in her lap. “... It’s really not important.”

“You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to, but anything that’s said in here stays in here, in case you do.” Literally- once again, the miracles of soundproofing.

There’s a pregnant pause in the air, almost to the point where Ancap asks Commie if she’s alright, although the woman finally breaks the silence. “I… I got excited about the possibility of doing it with you because you don’t like me already, so it wouldn’t change much if you knew about me being disgraceful.”

Hoo boy. Yeah, that guess about a potential complex from earlier was spot on. “It’s not ‘disgraceful’ to have fetishes. Most people do.”

Commie opens her mouth, pauses. Closes it. Open again, close again, and open to some sound at long last. “... I don’t want Ancom to respect me less. Sleeping with them messes up the dynamic as is, and if I started confessing to all of what we just did, how do I know they aren’t going to see my weak spots?”

Ancap is far from a psychologist, but she’s got some theories about what’s happening in Commie’s head right about now. But at the current moment, she’s also aware of how she has the elegance and subtly of a dying emu, so if anyone’s going to give strong emotional advice, it’s not Ancap. Even so, she reaches over to pat Commie’s hand. “They aren’t ‘weak spots’, and Ancom is not the judging type. If you ever do decide you want to try something with them, I’ll help you organize something, but for now, you can stick with me. If you want to, obviously.”

The redhead blinks, Commie almost looking… Surprised. Ancap herself is a little perplexed. Her instinct was usually to capitalize on emotional weakness, particularly in enemies like Commie, but… Well, she wasn’t evil. There was nothing to gain from hurting a fresh-faced woman to the scene, and Minarchist would have her head for it. She could be nice, sometimes.

The pause between them, for the first time in… Probably forever, isn’t awkward. It just feels nice, two friends relaxing close together. Something normal. Women free from the eternal pressure of upholding political movements. Eventually, Commie smiles, brushing a lock of hair back “... Thank you, Ancap. You’re not terrible.”

From Commie, that was high praise. “And you’re not too shabby sometimes, Commie. Now, any movie ideas?”

“Hm… Lilo and Stitch.”

“Excellent choice. Ah, and Commie?"

"Mmhm?"

"No need for your friends to suck at hiding weapons next time. Generally, you can just text me and say you're down to fuck."

"Once again: _hush."_

**Author's Note:**

> oh to have a rich domme who will tuck you in a big fluffy bathrobe. also if yall like this ill probably make it into a mini series of horny lesbian centricide adventures, so lmk if you do.
> 
> in any case, i REALLY appreciate comments and kudos! they keep my writing motivation up. feel free to request stuff here or over at my twitter (@commieochako)! thanks and see you soon!


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